


Slice of Life

by GalekhXigisi



Series: The Unholy Holy Trinity Collection [18]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Dogs, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, I, I Die By My Own Sword, INSTEAD OF BILL DENBROUGH, Implied Attempt, It C2 hurts, LMFAO MY DUMBASS TAGGED BILL HADER, M CACKLING ITS BEEN THERE FOR LIKE A MONTH, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medication, Mentioned Stranger Things, Mentioned The Goldfinch, Multi, Stanley is alive, Suicide Attempt, Trans Male Richie Tozier, Trans Richie Tozier, Weddings, no beta we die like men, top surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 10:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20691833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: Richie saves Eddie and they have a good fucking life like they deserve.





	Slice of Life

Richie comes out of the deadlights dazed as all hell, but he  _ knows _ what’s happening before it even happens. He’s seen Eddie die, seen the losers all die, seen  _ everything _ happen. Before Eddie can finish his sentence, Richie tosses him to the side like a rag doll, just barely avoiding the clown’s tendril that now impaled a rock just above the man’s head. With a jerk, Richie was standing up again, moving towards the hole that he  _ knew _ would lead to more options. He’s seen it before, he’s on fucking autopilot. He silently  _ begs _ that it was real, that what he saw wasn’t an illusion as the others followed him. He couldn’t watch Eddie die, no, not after he had  _ just _ gotten the man back from the dead. 

He’s thankful to all  _ fuck _ that the others follow without issue, that they don’t question him. Instead, he takes up a panting, “Okay! New plan, shitheads,” he calls out, not giving any of them time to actually process what’s going on. “So, basically, we spam him with that clown emoji!” 

Eddie’s brows furrow. “Hold on-” 

“No, no, we  _ can’t _ hold on, Eds! If we hold on,  _ you _ die! You, me,  _ all of us, _ we all  _ die.” _ He could feel his eyes burning with tears, not that he’d let them know. “This isn’t one of my shitty stand-ups, okay? This, I  _ just _ saw all fo  _ this, _ and you just fucking  _ died _ in my damn  _ arms, _ Eddie, so shut the  _ fuck _ up and fucking  _ listen!” _

Beverly opens her mouth to supply something before slamming her mouth shut. Bill stumbled over his words while neither Ben, Mike, or Eddie seemed to come up with a good reply to his words, nor his outburst. Richie didn’t have fucking  _ outbursts. _ He was the man that was loud and had a fake ass comedian personality, hiding all his feelings deep in his chest until the day he died. Now, he was practically crying in front of them while heaving through a panic attack with little to no reaction to his own initial panic. Richie didn’t even know how many times he had done this before, but it was like it was nothing more than before-show jitters where he would do his best to not let the previous night’s heartbreak show on his face and he would do his best not to sob in front of an entire show of people, which he  _ always _ succeeded in. 

“Okay,  _ great, _ glad we’re all agreed that we don’t want to fucking die!” He claps his hands together, nerves eating at his insides. “So,  _ basically, _ we spam the clown emoji and bully the  _ shit _ out of this clown until he’s a baby and then we rip his heart out!” 

“Jesus  _ shit,” _ Bill heaves out. 

“That’s how we did it in the deadlights, okay?” 

Richie ignored their hesitancy, charging in full-force, not really caring what happened to him. Since when did  _ he _ have any self-preservation, of  _ all _ people?

-

Eddie sighs softly, glancing at the phone that went dead for the seventh time in the past three minutes. It wasn’t like Myra. The woman  _ always _ picked up the phone, not that Eddie ever actually called her. She always called him, making sure she  _ always _ knew where he was going and what he was doing every single second of the day. He absolutely  _ hated _ it. 

“Mommy Myra still going incognito,” Richie asks from where he stands next to his car. They had already agreed to ride with each other, to live however they could. It was unspoken that they would hit the road  _ together _ if anything else happened. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie replies, though there isn’t any genuine bite to it. There was an actual bite to it, sure, but Eddie never meant it seriously, not even when they were young. “She’s not my-” 

“Whatever, Eds.” Richie smiles passively at the other. “You two divorcing or what?” 

Eddie raises a surprised brow. “Why would we?” 

“Because she’s  _ just _ like your mother and she’s fucking abusive,” Richie bites in reply. It takes everything in him to not just start yelling some sense into the other man then and there. “She’s isolating you!” 

“So?” 

Richie feels like he’s going to die.  _ “So,” _ he repeats, voice loud, “what the  _ Hell _ do you mean by  _ “so?” _ Do you remember how excited you were to finally get the fuck out of Derry and away from your mom? Do you remember promising the rest of us that you wouldn’t get someone  _ just _ like your mom when we all parted ways or what the fuck ever?” A new hurt boils inside of Richie. He wants to sob. “I’ve seen her, seen her reaction to you  _ dying, _ okay?” 

“And how do I know you aren’t just fucking with me?” 

It takes everything in him not to just yell out some shit like  _ because I fucking love you, you absolute fucking  _ ** _dunce!_ ** Instead, he inhales, something so deep that it burns at his lungs. He swipes his hand across his face. Now was no fucking times to cry, not when Eddie was right there, just awaiting the clasp of a woman who was nothing more than a carbon copy of his bitchy, isolating mother that hurt him far more than anything else. So, instead, he replies, “Because those damn Deadlights got me, just like how they got Bev, and you know that Bev didn’t exactly get anything wrong.” 

She hadn’t. She had spewed out sobs the instant she finally got the chance at the quarry, where Richie ignored his own tears and held her tight as she cried. The only differences were that Stanley had attempted suicide and Richie had been deadlight-ed, which ended up saving them all. Beverly had cried until her eyes just couldn’t anymore. She had spewed about her shit marriage, about marrying someone that was basically her father but abusive in all the ways he  _ wasn’t. _ It made Richie seize, remembering exes upon exes that had piled up now and his current manager that wouldn’t stop  _ pushing. _ Richie had even taken his SIM Card out for the deliberate point of not getting another called after he had gotten seventeen different calls all in the span of five minutes and fifty-three angry texts that all left him sick, vomiting on his drive over. 

He didn’t have it as bad as her,  _ Hell no, _ but it still hurt. 

Eddie freezes, sighing softly. “I… I’ve been thinking about it for  _ years _ now, but… I just haven’t been able to sneak away long enough to get the papers. She’s always been tracking me  _ somehow.” _

Richie smiles softly, opening his arms for the other, who slowly accepts the comforting embrace. “Do you still want to get that pomeranian we wanted as kids,” he asks with a smile. 

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie replies with his own gentle laugh. It’s all Richie needs to know it’s confirmation. 

-

Richie smiles as he presents the kissing bridge, pulling on Eddie’s hand like an excited little child. He hadn’t brought any of his medication with him, not a singular pill. Honestly, he should have known better, should have brought all of it with him. It had meant only a couple of hours of sleep and a feeling that he would selectively label  _ Very Bad. _ He remembered when he was young and didn’t have any way to stop this feeling that constantly invaded him. He just waited until his body inevitably crashed. 

“Well, Eds, here it is,” the taller of the two supplies, leaning down and offering one hand out to present the engraving he had done when he was just a kid, when his entire everything was different and he was just a little kid with feminine features that hadn’t started hormones yet. Thank fuck things were different now. He presents the  _ R + E _ with a Cheshire cat grin. “Tada!” 

“You wrote our names on the kissing bridge,” Eddie asks, raising a brow. He turns to the other, unsure of how to respond. “When the Hell did you get time for this, anyway?” 

Richie frowns, glancing at the ground as he sighs. “When… When the group  _ broke up… _ Bowers saw me playing Street Fighter with his cousin. He said he had to go and I asked if he wanted to play another game but Henry was there and… They both just kind of outed me in front of everyone so I just… Kind of ran. And then I saw that stupid fucking clown and… Well, I guess I was just pissed as all hell and went for it.” He shrugs, unsure of how to explain his thought process. He was actively admitting that he had a crush on the other man, as well as silently admitting that he still did, even if it went without saying. 

Eddie hums, nodding slowly. “Okay… Weird thought process, but…” He smiles, grabbing the taller man’s hand and walking a few feet further before leaning down and pointing at the  _ E + R _ down the line. He smiles something similar to the other’s own. “That was when we fought over the hammock for the first time.” He looks back at Richie, wiping the hair out of his face. “Looks like we had the same idea, didn’t we?” 

Richie smiles so wide that his cheeks hurt. 

-

Richie whines, tears coating his cheeks as he hugs Eddie. “I regret it,” he whimpers, “they’re  _ gone.” _

Eddie shakes his head, so patient as he gently lays the other down on the bed, smiling softly. “You don’t regret it, Richie. You’ve wanted this since we were  _ teenagers.” _ He runs his hands through the untamed curls, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheeks. “It’s normal to regret top surgery for a bit after. You knew this would happen.” 

“But they’re  _ gone,” _ he stresses, cries leaving him. 

“You’ve wanted this since we were kids, babe.” 

“I  _ know, _ it’s so  _ great.” _

Mike smiles from his spot on the other side of the couch, who sits with Stanley and Ben, the three excited to see how it would play out with the two lovers after the surgery. So far, it had mostly been Richie gushing about how much he loved the group and sobbing non-stop. It was better than it could have been. At least he wasn’t raging about when he did in bed with Eddie, which was a good plus for the men. 

Richie tries a smile, but he mostly ends up coiled around Stan, crying to his best friend about his wedding and the dogs he and Eddie planned to adopt. It was one of the better things to turn out from the night if they could ignore him crying enough. 

By the time he had come down from the medicine, though, there was a whole different story. Lulling him out from laughing gas and other happy painkillers came the uncomfortable switch to whatever the fuck this tiny pill was, it was  _ rough. _ Richie’s cries were no longer positive, instead ones born from pure sadness that came as a side effect of the pill. He sobbed about his parents, about how while they were neglective, they were still  _ amazing as Hell. _ They had been kind to him, supported him through his transition, did what they could. He sobs about his manager-boss-dude and the cruel treatment that came from it. He sobbed about the times he had sat in a room alone because  _ you’re a fucking comedian, you don’t need affection like the rest of people do. _ He sobbed because  _ What the actual fuck does that even fucking mean? I’m still fuckin’ human. _

The one that hurt the most was Richie revealing he absolutely  _ craved _ affection but, according to twelve different therapists, that touch usually disgusted him because it was always found connected back to the abuse he used to go through. The four men sat around Richie, letting him cry until he wore himself out. He couldn’t take any sleeping pills until he was finally pulled off of the painkillers, which wouldn’t be for a while. That meant that he’d be a million times more likely to use all the energy he possibly had before he even  _ considered _ sleeping like a “normal person.” 

It only continued like this for a week before Richie completely discarded the things he had told them without a hitch, smiling widely and going back to his old chipper self, no complaints leaving him. However, he did know that the group  _ knew _ now. They had all the information in their playing court, not that they wanted to use it. They surely would, but it wasn’t any fun. It never really was, was it?

-

Beverly smiles softly, running her hands through her friend’s hair. She had gone rather large on her wedding, with Ben’s support. However, Richie couldn’t do that, not with the severe anxiety and lack of actual friends outside of their little group. Eddie wasn’t much different, honestly. Their wedding was small, more just the Losers Club getting together while Richie invited his dad, the last living member of his family immediate. Wentworth had agreed to walk Eddie down the isle. The only person Eddie had invited was one of his coworkers, who seemed to be beyond happy to watch her friend get married. 

There were a few others on Richie’s side of the family that she didn’t exactly remember the name of. She knew there was Boris and his husband, Theo, with their three kids. And then there was Mike and El, with a group of their friends. Beverly knew they were cousins, but  _ damn _ did they look like they could be brothers. They looked far too similar and she knew Richie had picked up more than just a few things from the two. Boris, Richie, El, and a woman who she thinks was named Max were keen on starting as much trouble as they possibly could. Boris had set the cake on fire at some point and El had attempted to put it out by  _ throwing it, _ to which is landed on the grooms while Max recorded every second of it, cackling the entire time, much to her friends’ dismays. 

All in all, Beverly knew it could have been a lot more chaotic, especially with Richie at the helm of it all. That man was a force to be reckoned with, if she were being honest. However, he was happy, thriving as the wedding reception went on. 

It wasn’t anywhere  _ near _ as chaotic as Stan, Mike, and Bill’s wedding was. No, no, El had come along after befriending Mike. That girl constantly “fought” with Richie  _ (Beverly didn’t think it was anything serious, nothing more than bickering she did with the man), _ but damn could they cause some chaos. El was amazing with her powers and Richie was great at charming people. They made the perfect couple for each other, managing to swindle everyone  _ at least _ once, especially not excluding the grooms, who all ended up with an entire table of food on them by the end of the night after Richie and El established a gigantic food fight. Every single guest partook in it, going home messy and covered in food. No one regretted it, though. 

_ “It just makes for a spicier honeymoon,” _ Richie had teased the men, smirking before Eddie had to pull him away, spewing something about having to take El home the next morning. 

-

Richie smiles softly, sitting on the couch with the four dogs. He’ll admit, he only actually went for  _ one dog. _ However, the two puppies he had gotten along with a year-old pomeranian and her older friend husky were actually getting along great. He had sent Ben videos of them, of the singular kitten he had adopted, too, who sat on his shoulder the entire drive home and was now on the floor, batting at the husky’s tail. The dog, affectionately named Husk by the staff at the Humane Society for her rough bark, didn’t seem to mind, swinging her tail as she glanced at the rowdy kitten. 

There was a Great Pyrenees puppy, one that had yet to be named, just like the kitten swatting at the husky’s tail. She was sniffing around, mapping out the settings of the home. Richie had fallen in  _ love _ with the blind baby, adoring her from the very second she had sniffed his leg before leaning up against him and letting out a huff, something so similar to what the kitten had done. He wasn’t sure what to name her, nor the kitten, who was climbing up the couch by going up his leg. His grit his teeth and barred it before pulling her up after he saw that he was bleeding. He didn’t need Eddie fretting over him.

The kitten stuck tight to Richie after the man stood. He clicked softly at the puppy, who turned to him. “I’m coming through, buddy,” he provides as he walks past, opening the door to the bathroom. The puppy follows in, immediately putting her nose to work. Richie only cleaned up his leg, softly talking to the pets as he did so. The kitten didn’t move away from him, The fluffy cat stayed perched on him, ecstatic to be as high up as she could. And with Richie’s tall ass body, she sure as Hell got a stoop. 

Husk waddles in, Taz, the pomeranian, just behind her, practically vibrating with energy as she follows the older dog. “Hey, girls,” he murmurs softly as he bandages himself up. He usually wouldn’t go the extra step, but he was rather sure that this wasn’t going to be the last time this happened today, and he knew for a fact that it was far from the last if the old ass cat he used to have were any sample for them. He gently rubs the back of their ears, flipping off the lights to the bathroom but leaving the door open. 

The last dog sat on the couch, a large Saint Bernard named Lilith. She made all Hell if she were left home alone, but she was an officially signed a service dog and therapy dog somehow. She was well behaved so far, pummeling Richie with affection every single time she got the chance. It wasn’t good for his allergies, but he was starting a new medicine for it, so he  _ should _ be fine soon. 

The door opens, revealing Eddie, who looks like he’s had the  _ shittiest _ day out there before the man pauses, shutting the door when the squawling blind puppy comes running in, huffing out a messy bark that was some sort of attempt at a bark. If anyone asked Richie, he would have said that it was fucking adorable. 

“Surprise,” Richie smiles. “Puffball over there is blind, but she doesn’t have a name yet, or the kitten.” 

_ “Kitten,” _ Eddie repeats, frowning. 

Richie presents the kitten from where she was held on his shoulder, reinforced by his hand to keep her from toppling over. He had found her to be a klutz of the bunch, already told the albino beauty was the runt and probably wouldn’t make it very long unless they gave her enough attention and such, which Richie found to be bullshit as she was already thriving outside of the pound. 

“Haven’t named her yet, figured you’d want to name them. The husky’s name is Husk, then the pomeranian is Taz, and the Saint Bernard is a registered service and therapy dog named Lilith. She can’t be left home more than an hour, so we can take her with us.” 

“I leave for  _ one day,” _ Eddie huffs with a soft little smile, taking the kitten into his grip. “So… This is our little family now,” he asks with an even wider smile, pulling Richie down to give him a gentle kiss. 

-

The kitten didn’t stay a kitten very long. As the boys quickly found out, she was a Maine Coon, growing to be twice the size of Taz, but she was an escape artist that could kill any cat that looked at her wrong. She was a sweetheart, but somehow a little menace when it came to her claws. After she had practically torn through the wood underneath the door handle of their front door, Eddie had just decided to put in a doggy door for her. Taz never had much interest for going outside unless she had to do her business, so there was never actually the fear of her running away. The kitten had been named Pidge at one point, after her  _ (at first) _ tiny stature but quick and lethal bite. She was a huntress, after all. 

Lilith was the sweetest little thing, constantly sticking beside Kimba, the Great Pyrenees. She was basically the younger pup’s seeing eyes dog, guiding her around. Richie took them both wherever he went, getting Kimba legally apointed a service dog, though she was more for his anxiety than anything else. Both girls were silent most of the time, trained not to bark and to make themselves invisible whenever they could. Altogether, they were a great team, absolute angels when the separation anxiety didn’t get to them. Richie and Eddie both made sure to never let them be alone for longer than half an hour, though they were never actually alone for more than fifteen minutes, if the men were honest. 

Husk was nearing her end, though. She was nineteen years old, cancer setting in. Richie was doing everything in his power to give her the perfect last day before they had to put her down. A woman had given the dog her icecream after asking if she could, beyond delighted when Richie had said she could. She pet Husk, absolutely  _ adoring _ her the same way Richie had. 

When the time finally came, Eddie was there, holding onto his husband as he sobbed his heart out, crying himself. The two cried together, cried like there was nothing left to live for, despite knowing that there were a million more things. They held each other until the sobs subsided, passing out in their bed, no longer holding each other but instead curled together. 

-

The end of their own days comes too soon. Surprisingly, Eddie is the first to go. At the age of eighty-three, the man passes, leaving Richie alone for the first time in years. Surprisingly, he was the last of the Losers Club. Even after years of smoking and shit habits, he was the last one there, the last one alive. It absolutely broke his heart. Mike had passed only weeks prior, and then  _ Eddie? _

Surprisingly, he passes only a week after, the cause of death being broken heartstrings, simply called  _ a broken heart. _

But, hey, at least Richie got to hold Eddie one last time, beyond happy when the white little light he never thought he’d see greets him. The eternally youthful face of his husband is the next thing he sees, brown wings curled around him. Richie sobs his heart out once again, but for a different reason this time, happy to be held in his husband’s embrace, as well as his friend’s.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick little one-shot that wasn't supposed to be any more than 1000 words, but look at it now. Can you tell I'm soft for Richie? And I also adore Stan and Mike. It isn't related but you all need to know it. 
> 
> Please leave comments! I take constructive criticism!
> 
> Please join my Discord server!  
https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


End file.
